Antony Cotton, best known as the heartfelt and effervescent Sean Tully on Coronation Street, was visibly overwhelmed with emotion today following the sad news that his former co-star Tony Peers—who appeared in the ITV soap during the mid-to-late 1990s—has passed away at the age of 78 Thư Viện Trực Tuyến Miễn Phí+5IMDb+5Corrie News+5Corrie News+1Wikipedia+1. Although Peers was never a central figure on the cobbles, his repeated appearances as a delivery man, a junk dealer, and finally as Peter Mallett, father to Gary Mallett, left a gentle yet resonant mark on viewers and the cast. For Antony, the loss of a colleague from those earlier years triggered a wave of nostalgia and grief, a reminder of the quiet bonds built over shared scenes and backstage interactions.

Tony Peers had a lengthy and diverse career in entertainment, remembered fondly for his comedic flair, and for being a stalwart presence in both Coronation Street and Emmerdale The Sun. Off screen, he was a beloved figure, deeply involved in community theater and pantomime in Scarborough—roles that brought joy to thousands over his 2,500+ performances The Sun+1Corrie News+1. Antony, who has always been passionate about theater and community engagement himself, has often spoken of the profound influence that veteran actors like Peers had on rising performers. He recalls how experience and confidence radiated from Peers, making everyone on set feel safer, funnier, and more capable in front of the camera.

Today, as the news circulated through the Corrie family, Antony took to social media in a heartfelt tribute. In his message, he confessed how the finality of death had “hit him harder” than expected, calling Peers “a legend in his own quiet way” and describing the news as a “punch to the heart.” For many fans and colleagues, it was unexpected—Peers had never achieved superstar status but was always highly respected by those who knew him, both on and off the cobbles.

Reflecting on his own journey as a long-running cast member of Corrie since 2003, Antony wrote about the unique community feel of the show. He reflected on how, in the late ’90s, Corrie had already begun to feel like extended family, and actors like Peers helped to establish that sense of belonging—even cast members who didn’t appear every week contributed to the fabric that made Weatherfield feel lived-in. Antony’s tribute highlighted how Tony’s work in pantomime—an art form built on inclusion, humor, and shared creativity—was mirrored in the collaborative atmosphere behind the scenes on Coronation Street. In that sense, Tony’s legacy lived on in every heartfelt scene, every spontaneous line read, every burst of laughter when the cameras weren’t rolling.

On set this morning, crew members say Antony was seen quietly reaching out to old castmates and production staff, holding tightly onto memories of Peers’s warmth and generosity. One source noted that some of Peers’s earliest scenes had involved lending a helping hand to younger actors; stories abounded of the veteran offering advice mid-take and then sharing tea and biscuits during breaks. These small gestures helped shape a working culture grounded in respect and camaraderie—values Antony himself has championed throughout his career.

For Coronation Street fans, the news comes as a poignant reminder: not every actor becomes a household name, but everyone contributes to the show’s enduring charm. Episodes from the ’90s featuring Peers as Peter Mallett are now revisited with fresh appreciation—not for dramatic plot twists, but for the small, human moments that enrich a scene. One particular episode—where Peers’s character awkwardly delivers news to the Malletts—has become something of a cult favorite, precisely because of the unforced humanity he brought to it.

In the aftermath, social media tributes poured in from fans who remembered Peers fondly: “He made those small scenes feel big,” wrote one; another remarked, “Tony Peers was pure theater magic in every line he delivered.” Comments like these resonate deeply with Antony, reinforcing why he believes teenagers and 20-somethings who take up acting should watch and learn from seasoned professionals, regardless of their screen-time.

Antony’s heartfelt breakdown today also speaks to the emotional bonds forged on long-running shows. For him, each departure—whether scripted or real—hits like a small death. Over 22 real-life years on air, he’s known colleagues who came and went—and today’s grief echoes all of them. But Tony Peers’s passing is different: it comes at an age when retirement should have claimed the spotlight, not sorrow.

Acknowledging that sorrow, Antony has vowed to honor his late peer’s memory. Plans include a charity screening of one of Peers’s pantomime performances, and potentially a staged reading featuring some of Weatherfield’s own cast. He hopes this event will celebrate not just Peers’s work, but the essence of storytelling that touches audiences from stage to screen.

Meanwhile, current Corrie castmates have rallied around Antony. On set, the mood is subdued—camera crews have been linked arm-in-arm, and casual laughter dims in quieter tones. The script supervisors have added a small on-screen tribute at the end of tonight’s omnibus, acknowledging Peers as “a valued contributor to our Weatherfield family.”

Of course, as with all exits from Coronation Street—both fictional and real—the show presses onward. But today, the cobbles seem a bit quieter, the scenes a shade more thoughtful. Antony’s tears remind viewers that beyond the bright lights and dramatic arcs, Corrie is about shared history—and every actor, famous or not, becomes part of that.

At 49, Antony is more reflective than ever. Having been appointed MBE in 2022 for his charitable work and support to veterans Thư Viện Trực Tuyến Miễn PhíCorrie News+1Wikipedia+1, he’s aware that his contributions extend beyond the soap. Today’s emotional moment underlines how intertwined professional roles and personal connections really are. When a co-star passes—even one you haven’t shared a major storyline with—it still feels like a fragment of your own story has slipped away.

As dusk settles over Weatherfield tonight, Sean Tully might still be serving pints, but somewhere in the back of his mind lies a memory of Tony Peers—a gentle mentor, a smiling stranger in a junk dealer’s jacket, a father with a message only those who watched could appreciate. And somewhere in the wings, Antony Cotton wipes a tear, steadies himself, and steps back into character—knowing that the spirit of every performer, visible or hidden, lives on through every line, every smile, every moment shared on screen.